Blood Born: Cora's Choice #2 by V. M. Black

back. From the moment I had stepped out of the dressing room into the surgery to face him, this moment had been written. But some part of me still fought it, denying the inevitability, demanding that I keep this part of myself from him, the creature to whom I’d already given far too much.
    F aint spots of color had risen in Dorian’s cheeks, and his voice was ragged as he looked down at me with the same need that held me captive.
    “ Open for me, Cora,” he ordered.
    And I rejoiced as I obeyed.
    He slipped up my body then, and I felt the smooth head of his erection against my entrance. He was above me now, resting his weight on his elbows on either side of my head. I clung to his back, my nails biting into his flesh, desire and fear warring in me. I was frozen, wanting to arch into him, not daring to move, my breath coming in shallow, ragged gasps.
    Dorian met my eyes. “Trust me,” he said.
    How could I not? At his word, I would trust him to my doom.
    He pushed against me. There was the briefest burning that twisted into pleasure under his influence as it thrilled up my spine, and then it was gone, and he was filling me, stretching me until I could take no more and the weight of his hips rested against my body.
    I gasped for air and shook with reaction, barely believing what I had done, what he had just done to me. But he just said, “Open more,” and with one hand, he urged my thighs farther to the side. I could not deny him. He settled into the space, pushing even deeper inside.
    “ Come with me, Cora,” he said.
    I had nowhere else to go.
    He began moving slowing, pushing deep into me and pulling out almost to my entrance, over and over again, and I lay still and breathless for an instant, shocked at the intimacy of it.
    But my body was still keyed up, still close to the edge, and after the initial startlement wore off, I found myself moving with him, only a little at first, and gradually more, until my hips rocked hard into him every time he came down to meet me. I could feel the strength in him, the need that was tightly leashed even now, and I didn’t dare think what it would mean if he were to ever let go.
    I clenched with every thrust. He pushed against me, into me, insistently against the place that, until now, had only twisted in sympathy with the waves that came from my clitoris. My body burned, as if all my nerves were sparking at once, and deep twists of pleasure pushed out from my center to fill me with the rhythm in me.
    He began to build up speed, and he drove me with him, each stroke pushing me to a higher pitch. I could hear my breath, broken, ragged and harsh, small noises escaping my lips. He slipped a hand down between us and took my clitoris between two of his fingers, and it plunged me over the edge without warning or control.
    White heat ripped through me, coming from deep within me, surging out into my clitoris, my nipples, filling my head with tingling euphoria that blocked out sight, blocked out hearing, blocked out everything except for his merciless movements on top of me, inside of me, pushing me deeper and deeper into the orgasm until I thought I would drown.
    Someone cried out, piercingly, and I realized that it was me. Dorian shuddered on top of me, letting out a low sound that was swallowed up in my voice.
    Finally, he slowed, slowed and stopped, and the world came back again.

     

Chapter Eight
    D orian sat up and gathered me into his arms, pulling my body against his and kissing the top of my head softly, over and over. Limply, I stared up at the bed’s canopy above me for a long moment, struggling to catch my breath, to pick up the broken pieces of myself and put them back in some kind of order.
    And the order that it showed was painfully clear. What had occurred was a deliberate, planned, devastatingly thorough initiation into sex.
    “ How did you know?” I asked.
    “ That you were a virgin?” Dorian asked, an unexpected note of humor in his voice.
    Oh, God . I had just